


Walking with Mr. Homeless

by decaffeinatedcoffee



Series: Hermione's 50 First Dates [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:45:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decaffeinatedcoffee/pseuds/decaffeinatedcoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To say that he was surprised was an understatement. This woman was either painfully naïve or just plain carefree. He couldn't explain what he felt. He wasn't even sure of what he was thinking when he covered her hands with his. It had been too long since he last experienced a touch of human kindness. And he looked at her, smiling at him in such a blithe way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking with Mr. Homeless

Hermione was having such a bad day. A very bad day. It had been particularly trying at St. Mungo's Hospital. When she was supposed to be off-duty, she received a call from the head nurse telling her that a very _**incompetent**_ nurse had almost killed a patient by administering the wrong medication. The  _bloody_  nurse didn't even check the report beside the patient's bed.  _ **Bloody nurse!**_  She was already tired dead tired, having performed two major operations that took grueling hours of concentration when one  _ **bloody**_ nurse rang for  _Code_  Blue.

Okay, so her use of such profanities would make Ron blush. But if Ron knew why she was cursing, she knew he would join her too.

Luckily, they were able to stabilize his condition before his heart line went completely straight. Merlin's Beard… It was such a moment she hoped she would never have to experience this again - this white-hot fear that seemed to envelope her senses as she attempted to resuscitate him. Harry had given S2P1, a medicine that  when taken in a large dose, could be fatal. That is why it must only be taken in its prescribed amount by the doctor. It wasn't even meant to be taken unless it wasa severely dire condition because it tended to react badly to the patient's normal breath flow. How could somebody even forget that? It had been drilled into their heads since medical school.That stupid, _ignorant_ , _ **bloody**_ nurse almost caused their patient his life. And it wasn't just any patient. It was Harry Potter. Her best friend.

Needless to say, the nurse was subjected to disciplinary action, possibly stripped of her license, faced charges and lost her job. Harsh but she deserved it. Hermione thought darkly. She finally took a breath of relief when it was declared that Harry was safe.

 

* * *

 

She sat by some bench in the park, just a few blocks from the hospital, carrying a brown parcel of hot bread which she intended to eat for her dinner. With her hectic schedule, it wasn't an odd thing for Hermione to eat at irregular intervals. Such is the life, it seems.

She sighed. Well, she seemed to be doing that a lot the past few days. Ever since Harry got himself ICU-ed, she had been working hard just to make sure that he was going to be okay while also pacifying the Weasley family. It wasn't like they were the only ones worrying about a family member. Harry was almost like her brother too. The Weasley family had welcomed them both with open arms and took them into their care.

Ahhh.. what would they do without them?

"Rough day?" asked a man.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, surprised to hear a voice beside her.  _Funny, I didn't recall sitting with another person,_  she thought.

She saw that he was a man with unkempt, dirty blonde hair, kept in place by the makeshift beanie that he wore. He had on some old and tattered clothes that seemed to have seen better days and he was carrying  some ragged bags that looked like it would rip any second now. 

"Yeah, a very bad day",she replied, opting to look at the stars instead. Not much stars out there though. Pollution covered them up a long time ago.

"Can you tell me about it?" He asked politely, beckoning her to answer.  _Well, she probably isn't going to answer, h_ e thought. Nobody talks to strange men from the street. At least, strange men with doubtable intentions. Not that he had any.

Hermione had been debating on whether or not to continue conversing with the man but he had these kind, world-weary,grey eyes. Perhaps, it was okay. After all, she had nothing to lose. So she went on telling the man what happened to her that day at work and he just sat there and nodded his head every now and then while listening to whatever she said.

Talking to the man made her feel better. Almost as if some heavy burden was taken away from her.

"I haven't really introduced myself to you. By the way, I'm Hermione Granger," She said, extending her hand to him.

"Draco Malfoy," he replied, staring at her outreached hand.

She bobbed her head slightly, "Well? Aren't you going to shake my hand?" she asked.

"My hands are dirty."

She laughed merrily while capturing his hand with both of hers and shaking it enthusiastically.

"You're being silly!" she said. "I don't care about that. I'm glad to make a friend."

To say that he was surprised was an understatement. This woman was either painfully naïve or just plain carefree. He couldn't explain what he felt. He wasn't even sure of what he was thinking when he covered her hands with his. It had been too long since he last experienced a touch of human kindness. And he looked at her, smiling at him in such a blithe way. People usually stay away from him or run away whenever they see him approaching. Mean small children would throw rocks or pebbles at him. Parents would hurridly take their children who would give alms to him. All he'd have for company were the ducks in the pond that he'd feed when he had some extra bread to spare. He never meant any harm.

Such was the life of a beggar in the street.

"Are you okay?" She asked, wondering what made him pause for a while, still holding his hands and keeping them warm.

He smiled at her for the first time that night, "Do you want to take a walk here in the park? We'll stay on the lighted path with people around."

She was probably going to refuse. In spite of the kindness that she had shown him, it was bad enough for her to be seen talking to him and holding his hand. She was such a naïve woman. He looked at her intently, studying her, trying to read what was on her mind. She probably-

"Of course! Come on!" She said, tugging his hands. "Let's go!"

 _What a strange woman,_ he thought.

Her hands were very warm.  _Such a kind woman._ And as they walked, he told her his part of the story.

He was once a rich man-well, a rich boy actually; however, when he was only twelve years old, his father's shoe company got burned to the ashes on the eve of Christmas by some rowdy teenagers who were part of the local gangs. He admits, they weren't really popular with the locals. Maybe because they were too snobbish.  _Maybe,_  he mused. After that, they went bankrupt when his father's shipping business failed. A series of misfortunes flowed into their family. He dropped out of school. His father died from over-exhaustion. His mother followed his father, unable to contain her grief .

Nobody took him in.

They lost everything.

He lost everything.

_What a happy Christmas he had. Happy indeed._

All it took was a single spark and everything was taken away from him. Everything that he had ever known. His world.

 

* * *

 

There, they stood by a shade of a tree. She gazed at him with glassy eyes while he only looked away.

"I don't want your pity." He said.

She smiled and shook her head.

"No, I admire your strength, Draco." And she meant it. She took him in her arms and put his head on her chest like a loving mother would to her child.

"It's okay to cry."

It was his turn to shake his head. "No" he said as he thought that he had already run out of tears to shed but the tears were already falling on their own.

 

The moon shone brightly that night.

 

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really old work that I edited. I also would like to give credit for a certain scene in Jumanji. I also am not that familiar with medical terms or procedures. I apologise.
> 
> I'm also quite fond of fragmented phrases. Haha. This is unbeta-d.


End file.
